Escape
by Aria688
Summary: AU Sixthyear, not HBP compliant. After finding her nephew depressed and unstable after the death of his godfather, Petunia Dursley decides to take matters into her own hands. How will Harry deal with his return to the muggle world? R&R please!


AN: Hey everyone, this is my first real story, so I'd really appreciate any comments and/or constructive criticism (please no flames, I have this annoying urge to be liked) that would help make the story better. Hope you enjoy the story, and remember to click that review button! It makes my day.

Anyone want to be my beta?

Disclaimer: Alas, none of it is mine. If it was, I'd be a lot richer by now.

Cold. That's the only thing he felt these days- days spent lying on the lumpy mattress supported by the creaking network of broken springs and coils that pass for his bed, staring at the ceiling. No thoughts, no movement. Just the sensation of an ever-returning wave of ice that washed over his chest and seeped into his heart and lungs, creating an ache so potent it almost physically pained him to move. He spent hours each day fighting not to cry as he waited for the cold to pass, awaiting the sweet return of the emptiness, the lack of emotion, which allowed him to close his eyes and catch a precious hour or two of untroubled sleep.

His relatives left him alone for the most part, save for the times when Aunt Petunia would occasionally push a bowl of thin soup or some vegetables through the cat-flap of his bedroom door- food that was usually left untouched. He only ate enough to keep himself alive, if not healthy.

Dudley, on the other hand, spent most of his days out with his gang, avoiding contact with his cousin out of fear. Vernon didn't acknowledge his presence in the house at all.

On the eighth day of his exile from the magical world, Harry was suddenly yanked out of his stupor by an annoyingly persistent, dignified-looking owl bearing the Hogwarts crest. He dumped the owl into Hedwig's cage- which she protested with a screeching hoot- he found a letter from Dumbledore.

_My dear boy,_

_I extend to you my sincerest condolences after the loss of your godfather. Sirius was a good man, if a bit rash, and he shall be sorely missed. I hope that you are comfortable during your stay with your relatives, and please relay to them my warmest regards. Unfortunately, Harry, I regret to inform you that because of Voldemort's increased activity, we are unable to bring you to the Burrow. However, a guard will arrive in two week's time to take you to headquarters, where you will be spending the remainder of your summer holiday before your return back to school with your classmates. I urge you to write sparingly, and I remind you to take particular care with any letters you feel you need to send, as prying eyes are everywhere. _

_Take care of yourself Harry,_

_Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore_

_-Headmaster, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

"Bastard." Harry clenched the letter in his fist, taking out his newfound feelings at his professor out on the offending piece of paper. The coldness that had consumed him for over a week now gave way to a new emotion, one he thought he'd lost: anger. The chipped lamp on his nightstand began to flicker as Harry let his pent-up emotions run free and released the magic that he had been restraining since he left the train at King's Cross.

He got up from his bed and began furiously pacing the four-step width of his room as his mind raced. What right did Dumbledore have to go around ordering his life like this? He wasn't a parent or a relative, nor was he his guardian. In fact, he realized, Dumbledore had no legal hold over his life at all! He, Harry, had let him take over his freedom out of a compulsion to bend to authority, just as everyone else had. Mr. and Mrs. Weasely, Ron, Ginny, Remus, Sirius, Hermione, Tonks, his professors- they all seemed to snap to attention whenever Dumbledore entered a room, and they did his bedding without question. Moreover, they expected him to do the same. He was, after all, the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Be-Controlled, the Gryffindor Golden Boy. He was supposed to follow the side of the Light, and by association, Dumbledore, like some mindless puppet until he wore out his use to them.

Well, the blind obedience ends today, Harry thought to himself. He opened his trunk and pulled out his last sheet of parchment and his quill, and, using his Potions book as a blotter, began to draft a response.

"What in the world…" Petunia gasped and dropped the pan she was using to fry eggs for her son's breakfast as the lights in the kitchen started flickering violently for a few minutes, then remained on.

She set the pan down on the stove and sat down at the kitchen table to calm her frazzled nerves. She had been afraid of something like this. Ever since her nephew had returned home from that dreadful school of his, painfully thin and with the haunted look in his eyes of someone who had not slept in weeks, she believed it was only a matter of time before he snapped and let his magic out. It wouldn't have been the first time.

**_Flashback- Harry's 6th Birthday_**

_The sun shone brilliantly on the lawn as a gaggle of kindergarteners raced each other about, playing tag. They were laughing, pushing each other around, and yelling "You're it! Betcha can't catch me!" before running off as fast as their small legs could carry them. All except for one. _

_Harry sat on the front steps, hugging his knees to himself as he watched Dudley and his friends laugh and play._

"_Oy, DUD! Come help me catch Piers!"_

"_WHADDAYA NEED HELP FOR? HE'S SLOW AS A TURTLE!" _

_The small boy tried to hold back the tears that were threatening to pour down his cheeks, wishing with all his might that someone would come over and ask him to play with them. They all ignored him, and Dudley hadn't managed so much as a greeting to him, much less pleasant birthday wishes. Why did he always have to be alone? He just wanted some company on his birthday, was that too much to ask? He felt a sudden tingling running through his hands, and jerked his head back in fright at what happened next. _

_Petunia yelped as she felt an unseen force jerking her away from the garden, where she had been carefully watching Dudley play with his friends, and over to the door of the house. She crashed into the terrified six year-old, toppling him over before finally coming to rest at his side. After picking himself up and rubbing the spot on his shoulder that he hit on the step, he looked up and grinned at his aunt._

"_Are you here to play with me?"_

_**End Flashback**_

Petunia opened her eyes and sighed tiredly. She knew that it was dangerous to let her nephew bottle up his emotions as he had a nasty habit of doing as of late, and sooner or later they would explode out of him, literally. She still remembered the numerous hair color-changing and flying toy incidents that had occurred many times over the years. Well, enough was enough, she wasn't about to let the boy endanger himself like this, not to mention the entire family by association. After rummaging through the kitchen drawers she drew out an orange flyer that she had received in the mail from Smeltings entitled "Athletics and the Arts- SUMMER PROGRAMS" and picked up the phone in the living room and began dialing the number at the bottom of the page. Something had to be done.

With a last flick of the quill, Harry signed his name at the bottom of the parchment. He half-smiled as he reread his work.

_Dear Professor Dumbledore,_

_Thank you for your condolences, I appreciate them very much. Unfortunately, that was probably the only part of this letter that you're going to like. I'm not one to beat around the bush, so I'm going to do us both a favor and be frank about this. Concerning your regards to my relatives, forgive me if I "forget" to repeat them, since you very well know their feelings on the subject of magic and the wizarding world in general. As to my return to Grimmauld Place, let me be very clear. I have absolutely no intention of returning to that hellhole anytime in the foreseeable future, so kindly inform the guard that their services are no longer needed. While staying with my relatives for the entirety of the summer holiday is not the most appealing way to spend my vacation, I much prefer it to being shut up in a gloomy old house with a mad house-elf bent on serving its dead mistress. And by the way, you don't have to worry about anyone intercepting my letters. I have a feeling I won't have much occasion to write this summer. _

_Have a good summer professor, and I would greatly appreciate it if you'd remember that you have no legal or magical claim over my life, so do try and butt out of my business._

_Sincerely,_

_Harry James Potter_

All right, so he could have been a bit more courteous when writing to the headmaster of his school, but he was so mad he found it hard to care. He rummaged around his desk, found an unused envelope, and tied it to Hedwig's leg.

"HARRY! Come to the kitchen please!" Harry jumped and nearly dropped Hedwig as his Aunt's screeching painfully reached his ears. Petting his owl to reassure her, he walked over to the window and let her out.

Feeling satisfied for the first time since he left the Hogwarts Express, he ran downstairs, wondering what in the world his aunt could possibly want now.


End file.
